Badges
by butterflymind
Summary: Why does Hodges keep going out to crime scenes? Gen Greg/Hodges friendship


A/N: I realise this is a somewhat outlandish premise, but I'd contend it's no more ridiculous than anything the show has tried to make me believe recently.

Badges

He knew he shouldn't be going through his stuff. Yet half the contents of the drawer was already on the bench and he had now resorted to scrabbling at the back, poking his fingers into the recesses of the metal to pull out the last few things trapped between the bottom of the drawer and the underside of the desk. It had started as a simple mission, to retrieve the flashlight that he had leant to Hodges ages ago. He supposed it could be considered a flimsy excuse but that was definitely how it started, although if he was honest he could probably have ascertained that the flashlight wasn't there in the first five minutes. Instead he had spent the last fifteen cataloguing a random collection of sample bottles, broken pens, screwdrivers and twisted bits of metal. He was examining a vicious looking hook when a voice broke in from the doorway, making him jump and almost stab himself through the hand.

"It's good for getting tubes out of the carousel mechanism." David advanced across the room, arms folded across his chest. His hand brushed through the jumble of objects on the desk, turning over an allan key between his fingers as he spoke. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for my flashlight." Greg replied, sounding defensive. David raised his eyebrows.

"I don't have your flashlight." David leaned past him to open the drawer, methodically replacing the items from the table. His movements were jerky and Greg realised for the first time that he was angrier than he was letting on.

"You borrowed it." Greg said, letting irritation slip into his own tone. It was partly a defence mechanism, but he was starting to feel guilty and that fuelled a little genuine anger on his part. "Back on the Thompson double murder case." David paused for a second and turned his head to look at him.

"Thompson? That was what, two years ago?" He put a sample bottle down on the bench sharply and Greg jerked back in surprise, knocking half the contents of the drawer across the table. Some items skidded onto the floor, whilst a large glass beaker rolled over the edge with more speed than Greg was expecting. His arm shot out and he caught it just in time. Hodges groaned in exasperation and began gathering the items from the edges of the table, grumbling quietly.

"Here, let me help you." Greg said, feeling slightly chastened. Hodges shook his head slightly and when Greg reached out a hand he moved as if to bat it away. Greg moved his arm back sharply and in the process caught the corner of a plastic card, already lying precariously on the edge of the bench. The card teetered for a second then tipped over, flipping gracefully in the air before landing face up on the floor. David moved towards it but Greg was already there, kneeling down to pick it up. His eyes scanned it automatically, noticing David's picture but not registering the text. He stood, reaching out to hand the card back when something suddenly caught his eye. Greg snatched the it back just as David reached for it, his eye backtracking slowly over the printed information.

"What the hell?" He muttered before finally looking up at Hodges. David stood perfectly still, one hand still reaching out to grasp the card and an expression of faint panic on his face. It only lasted for a moment, then he unfroze and reached out suddenly for the card, snatching it out of Greg's hand.

"That's mine." He said shortly, pocketing the card without glancing at it. Greg blinked, trying to sort through his own thoughts.

"CSI." He said finally. David regarded him calmly, his face giving nothing away. "That card said CSI." Greg repeated. David did not reply, but looking at him closely Greg realised he was holding his breath. On a sudden instinct, Greg held out his hand for the card again. David looked at him for a long moment and then half shrugged, seeming to deflate he wordlessly reached into his pocket and handed it back. Greg studied it more carefully this time, turning it over in his hands. "Is it real?" He asked.

"Of course it's real. Why the hell would I fake an I.D for a place I already work?" David responded sharply. Greg shrugged, still staring at the card.

"It could have been a joke, or a present..." He tailed off, realising the number of things wrong with those suggestions. "But if it's not fake, then you're a CSI." David sighed and pulling a stool out from under the bench, sat down. He motioned for Greg to do the same and Greg placed the card on the table between them, staring accusingly up at them both.

"Ever think it's odd that I keep going out to crime scenes?" Hodges asked.

"We're short staffed." Greg replied, surprised at how defensive he sounded. "We need as many people as we can get." Hodges quirked an eyebrow. "And you've not been out to that many, just that shooting, and that missing kid, and the cyanide thing."

"And the one I was sent out on for Ecklie's outreach programme." David supplied. Greg nodded. "Ever see any of the other lab techs on that programme?" Greg thought for a moment and slowly shook his head. Hodges leant back, resting his elbow on the counter behind. "Ever wondered why I have a vest?" He asked.

"Not really." Greg replied. It hadn't really registered, if he was honest. Another person in the field wearing a CSI vest had fitted in and he hadn't questioned it. Now, memories and half completed thoughts were coalescing in his head and he drew in a sharp breath. "But you hate fieldwork." He burst out suddenly. David shrugged.

"I know that now." He replied. "At the time, I thought it might be fun."

"You thought it might be fun?" Greg echoed, his voice tinged with incredulity. "You did the exams, the field tests, the certification training because you thought it might be fun?" David didn't say anything, but smiled slightly. Greg shook his head. "No way." He said at last.

"Why not?" Hodges asked, folding his arms across his chest. Greg stood up, exasperated, and began to pace.

"You're forgetting I've done it." He said, rounding on his heel to face David again. "It's not something you go through 'for fun.'"

"Maybe not for you." Hodges replied. The smugness in his tone was needling Greg badly, just as it always did. The urge to storm out of the lab with the card and tell the world was strong, just to see the look on Hodges' face. But the only force stronger in his psyche was holding Greg back; he was still curious.

"OK." He said, trying a different tactic. "So why go back to being a tech then? If CSI work is so easy?" David smirked, but Greg thought he could detect a hint of uneasiness behind the smile.

"My job is quieter, cleaner and the pay's better. Only an idiot would stay in the field." He said pointedly. It was Greg's turn to shrug.

"Only an idiot wouldn't realise they hated fieldwork before they took the test." He replied. David sighed and picked up the card, looking at it for a moment before he set it down again.

"So you've learnt my big secret." He said sardonically. "Can we just drop it now?" He sounded bored, as if the topic held no more interest for him. But Greg noticed his hands clenching, not much more than a muscle twitch. Greg shook his head.

"Not while you're still lying to me." He replied, a hint of mocking in his tone. It was a calculated move, he'd learnt long ago that the best way to get a rise from Hodges was to puncture his pride.

"Those masterful CSI powers are failing you again Sanders." Hodges said with more heat in his voice. "I've just got nothing else to say." Greg looked at him steadily and David stared back, an unspoken challenge between them. After a moment David dropped his gaze and stood up, moving to the GC-MS and fiddling with the controls. Greg knew at that moment that he had won. "You're not going to leave this lab until I tell you, are you?" David asked. Greg shook his head. "Well, you'll be sent out on a case sooner or later." David mused, looking only briefly in Greg's direction as he moved about the room.

"But I'll keep coming back." Greg said. He had meant the sentence to come out sarcastically, maybe even with a hint of menace. But instead his voice held a seriousness even he didn't recognise. Something in this new tone must have spoken to Hodges, who stopped what he was doing and sat down again heavily.

"It was in L.A." He began, pausing after the first statement to draw breath as if he had only just decided to go on.

"My supervisor, the lab supervisor, he was into career progression." As Hodges spoke his fingers were tapping gently on the counter in front of him and Greg found the noise distracting, an irritating arrhythmic beat. "He offered me the chance to take the field tests and I took it."

"That's it?" Greg asked, surprised.

"That's it." Hodges confirmed. Greg thought for a moment, then narrowed his eyes.

"What was your supervisor like?" He asked.

"Sharp." Hodges answered quickly. "John saw things in the tiniest detail and he always knew where to look for them."

"Like Grissom." Greg said.

"Yes." Hodges agreed thoughtfully. Greg grinned.

"So you hero-worshipped him into the field." Hodges' eyes widened slightly.

"What?" He asked. Greg leaned back from the table and folded his arms across his chest, smiling.

"You'd never have gone into the field on your own." He said with a hint of smugness in his voice. "Even you couldn't be that self-unaware. But if someone like Grissom asked you? You'd probably do anything." Hodges' look was murderous, a fact which only confirmed to Greg that he was right.

"Out Sanders. I've had enough of this." He said shortly, but Greg was having too much fun to leave now.

"But why did you maintain your training when you got here? That's what I don't get." Greg said.

"Out Sanders." Hodges repeated but Greg stayed still, smiling serenely. After a moment or two of fidgeting under his gaze, David gave up.

"Condition of the job." He almost spat out the words. "I agreed to keep my training up and fill in if necessary, as long as it didn't become public knowledge."

"Why would Ecklie agree to that?" Greg asked.

"Get a highly trained trace specialist and a fill in CSI on a single salary all for the price of a little discretion? Why wouldn't he?" Hodges shrugged.

"Why did you agree?" Greg said, "you could have got a better position somewhere else, just doing trace."

"But I wanted to work here." David replied. "And I figured the odds of the department ever being so short staffed that I was in the field regularly..." He trailed off and they both winced at his poor choice of words.

"So Grissom must have known." Greg said, breaking the silence.

"And Catherine, and Nick." Hodges affirmed.

"But no one else in the department?" Hodges shook his head.

"Not yet, anyway." He said quietly.

"Hey, I won't tell anyone." Greg said defensively. Hodges quirked an eyebrow and a smile almost returned to his face.

"Your secret keeping abilities aren't exactly legendary." David replied.

"I'll keep this one." Greg said, then a sly look passed over his face. "If you answer one more question." Hodges sighed and threw up his hands.

"Why not? Since I'm your new object of fascination."

"Why did you want to work here so bad?" Greg asked. His tone was light, expectant of another opportunity for some teasing of Hodges' hero-worship. He was surprised when Hodges' smile dropped and his face clouded over. Silence stretched between them, sharp edged and brittle in the air. Unable to stand it any longer, Greg spoke again. "You don't have to answer." He said, struggling to keep his tone light and failing. David nodded almost imperceptibly and his frame relaxed.

"Don't you have any work to do?" He asked at last. Greg twitched a small smile of his own.

"You could do it for me." He shot back, rising from the chair.

"At least then the evidence tags would be readable." Hodges replied, standing also.

"Does this mean that when you're in the field, I'm technically your boss?"

"That's never going to happen Sanders. Now go, some of us have real work to do." Hodges gestured forward, actively shooing Greg out of the lab. Greg grinned and headed for the door, pausing in the doorway and turning back to face Hodges, who was already bent over the microscope.

"Seriously. I won't tell." He said. David looked for a moment as if he might say something in reply, but instead he looked back at what he was doing. Feeling dismissed, Greg left the lab and turned down the corridor, trying to remember what he was doing before his flashlight treasure hunt. Just before he rounded the corner he turned back to look at David again and found him still sitting in front of the microscope, staring blankly into space. His hand was poised over the notepad at the side of the instrument, as if he was about to write something down, but he stayed perfectly still. Greg had a sudden strong urge to return to the lab, even walking a few paces back down the corridor before he changed his mind and retreated again. An urge to get serious answers to serious questions and to understand the origins of that blank look in David's eyes warred with the caution to leave things he didn't understand well alone in case he did more damage. Both desires stemmed from emotions he didn't wish to characterise in that moment. Instead Greg turned the corner and walked away and didn't see David drop the pen and just for a second bury his head in his hands. Then he took a deep breath, set his shoulders, and went back to his job.


End file.
